Final Fantasy VII: The Storm Kensho Saga
by Makio Hashuma
Summary: It's been 5 years since the end of the war and the sound of Sephiroth's blade killing his father in the Shinra-Wutai War still echoes within his mind. Haunted by his past, Storm joins AVALANCHE one day as a simple merc with a simple job. Renovating. R
1. How We Got Here

It was indeed a slow day at the office today as Storm Kensho sat at his desk, thumbing through another interests magazine to pass the time. He always sat there, with his feet propped up on his desk these days. He was a mercenary, yes, but his underlings did his work. He had worked quite a few of his 22 years-of-age to build that business. Now it was the most famous mercenary business in Midgar, providing various services to numerous small corporations and individuals throughout the massive Floating City, and in a place like Midgar, business was good. Good enough to the point that Storm could provide food, shelter, and steady employment for any man willing to work for his business. He did have the prospects of bringing his business world-wide but he lacked the capital to do so. He had plans of opening such a branch somewhere in the great Fortress-city of Junon, or perhaps lending his aid to the dilapidated town of North Corel to try and get that place back on its feet. Everyday, Storm would find himself looking out the large window to the right of his desk, keeping a watch upon the various mishmash of men-at-arms milling about below him, taking calls and the like for the various clients of Professionals and Securities Incorporated, the rather no-nonsense name he'd chosen some five years ago when he came to Midgar after the War.

Ah, yes, the Great War: A pointless and brutal contest between the last two powerful nations here upon the Planet. Wutai, Storm's homeland, and the Shinra Power and Electric Company, the great super-conglomerate of arms manufacturers and Mako Power contractors, had come to blows when Shinra had elected build a Mako Reactor upon the great Western continent that was dominated by the materia-powerful Wutai. Shinra had wished a bloodless establishment of its dominance over the last nation on the Planet that could oppose it, only for the ploy to be flung back in their face when Godo Kisaragi, Lord and ruler of Wutai, marshaled his nation to defend itself when he declared war upon Shinra and its allies. At Godo's right hand was the Lord Protector of Wutai, Metsubi "Slayer" Kensho, the legendary tactician and swordmaster who served as Godo's general and his own personal protector. When the war began, Metsubi's son, Storm, was but two years old. When the war ended, he was seventeen and a good generation of men and women lay dead on either side.

He could remember it now: The war was drawing to its close with Wutai appearing to be the victor. Slayer, along with Storm, had won Wutai many battles, Slayer's skill with the blade and his deadly tactics had wiped out much of the Shinra army. In addition, massive sabotage efforts on the part of Kisaragi's deadly ninja units had helped cripple the Shinra's infrastructure, which at that point was entirely reliant on the massive production of its Mako reactors. The tide was then abruptly reversed when three men, who would go down in Wutai's history as the Shacklers of Leviathan, entered the war. Genesis Rhapsodos, Angeal Hewley, and Sephiroth were three warriors whose power the likes of which had never been seen in the long life of the Planet. They were like three great demons born straight from Hell, able to take an entire army of Wutai soldiers and samurai each, their great powers tearing apart the Western continent. In addition, Shinra introduced their counter to Wutai's legendary samurai and ninja task forces: the SOLDIER special operations division of the Peacekeepers, the official name of Shinra's army. Consisting of genetically-altered superwarriors, SOLDIER and the Shinra army began to beat back against the Wutai army, pushing them back across the sea all the way to the main continent. With the Shacklers commanding Shinra's army, they attacked and razed all cities upon the southern portion of the Western continent, sending great throngs of refugees fleeing north to Wutai's capital city along with a great many routed army units. As Shinra advanced from the great mountain ranges that made up the south, Slayer, Storm, and Godo elected to hatch a daring attack plan that involved taking out the Shacklers of Leviathan and removing Shinra's last hope for victory.

On a brisk Spring afternoon, Godo led the bulk of Wutai's main army against the Shinra army upon the Great Plains, who were being led by Genesis. Angeal and Sephiroth, however, had elected to lead this battle from the back, keeping in reserve the best of SOLDIER for a devastating right-flanking attack. Meanwhile, Storm and Slayer had led an elite cadre of samurai around the left flank of the battle, staying below notice and moving quickly so that they could catch Sephiroth and Angeal's unit unaware. When they caught up to the two, the samurai and their leaders struck without mercy and without fear, knowing that it was all or nothing with this battle. Then, as it had been prearranged, a couple of units of ninja joined the battle, springing from the main battle to attack the SOLDIER unit that was Slayer's target, having dressed themselves like common Wutai soldiers in order to avoid attracting attention. Angeal was Storm's target, while the great Slayer had elected to face Sephiroth on his own. As he battled Angeal, Storm was confronted by what seemed to be Angeal's apprentice, a black-haired SOLDIER who seemed like every other standard SOLDIER grunt. This fellow, who seemed about Storm's age, provided great difficulty for the young samurai, who wound up having to face a legendary warrior and his well-trained protege at the same time. Though Storm was a highly skilled and disciplined warrior, he was barely a match for the two, who were able to keep him on the defensive more often than Storm could mount the attack. As he battled Angeal and the youth, Storm kept as best an eye on his father as much as he could. When Sephiroth and Slayer met on the field, time seemed to freeze.

The two had eyed each other for what seemed an eternity until without warning they sprung into action. To this day, there is no accurate account to their swordfight. Some say that Slayer had the upper hand through the battle, his excellent form often times pushing Sephiroth back. Others say that the length of the Masamune, Sephiroth's legendary Wutai-forged blade, gave him the edge, as he could keep Metsubi at bay with his deft sword slashes. The outcome was certain, though. After their pitched battle, "Slayer", long hailed as Wutai's savior, slumped to the ground, the Masamune sheathed within his chest. This was a blow that Wutai wouldn't, and still hasn't, recover from.

Storm watched in horror as his father, the only parent he ever knew, lay splayed in a pool of blood of both his own and the men around him. Tears began to well-up within his eyes as a great rage overcame the young Storm Kensho. With his sword flying in front of him, Storm broke from his battle with Angeal and his apprentice and attacked Sephiroth in a suicidal bid to kill the man who slew his father. But it was all for naught, as Sephiroth, seemingly without thinking, subdued and killed Storm within three sword blows. The pain of his own brief death still echoed within Storm's mind when he was brought back from the grave.

The corpse of the sixteen-year-old samurai was brought to the laboratories of the one and only Professor Hojo, the unstable genius behind the SOLDIER project. After showering Storm's body with Mako, he experimented upon Storm, infusing his body with Jenova Cells, the strange substance that gave SOLDIERs their unbelievable strength. Through these experiments, Storm was restored to life when revived from his premature death. But even as he gasped his second first-breaths in a sort of grisly rebirth, Storm was now a pawn in a much greater game. Sephiroth, who had began to become aware of his great psychic abilities and learning how to bend Jenova-infused beings to his will, used Storm as his own test subject. The samurai's free will was stripped away, leaving him a mute mask of what he once was and became SOLDIER's newest First Class warrior.

The remainder of the war was a long and drawn-out struggle. Godo's main army had succeeded in routing the main Shinra army, though he was wounded during a personal duel with Genesis himself. Though Wutai was able to push Shinra back into the mountains, Shinra was quick on the recovery and prevented the Wutai from pushing against this momentary weakness. Godo Kisaragi, himself a respectable leader, was able to hold Shinra's armies at bay for a bitter and bloody year, wherein much of the Great War's casualties occured. The Shacklers of Leviathan, however, ended up breaking the stalemate and ended the war when Shinra's armies besieged and then captured Wutai's capital city. The once proud nation of the Western continent had fallen and was now under sway of the Shinra Power and Electric Company. And Storm Kensho, once a shining example of Wutai's pride and honor, had been forced to kill many of his own countrymen.

President Shinra took recognition in Storm's abilities and took him in as his step-son. However, Shinra's ulterior motives could be seen with a wave of a hand. Though the Kensho clan of Wutai was greatly disgraced by their premier heir's supposed "betrayal", they still wielded considerable influence in the court of Wutai. Storm was the tool necessary to give Shinra a connection into the powerful clan and allow him to keep an eye on the court of the defeated Wutai, who was down but definitely not forgotten.

After the war, Sephiroth found Storm no longer needing his control and released him. Storm, after awakening, found out the atrocities he had committed but couldn't walk away from his duty as a First Class SOLDIER, as was dictated by the Code of the Samurai, and the fact that he was a deadman if he ever set foot in Wutai ever again. Storm continued on, participating in missions and assignments. Then, after the Nibelheim incident, as he was ordered there along with the great Sephiroth himself, the repercussions of the destruction he had committed caught up with him. After feeling the immense remorse, he left SOLDIER and came to Midgar after a period of finding himself. He started his Mercenary business and it expanded and grew under his leadership.

But even to this day, he could never shake off his own trauma of what had happened and what he'd done. To this day, Storm Kensho was a marked man for the remainder of his life. To this day, he would still wake up, bathed in cold sweat as a great pain would wash over the scar the cut through his left eye.


	2. The Jobs

Storm Kensho spent most of his days reminiscing about the Great War ever since he'd more or less retired from active work. Storm had become so enveloped in his latest trip down memory lane that he didn't hear nor see his second-in-command, Samanoske, enter to give him some news. After Samanoske had tried, without success, to get his boss's attention, he tried yelling.

"SIR!", barked Samanoske, waving a hand in front of Storm's face, "sir?"

"Hm?", said Storm, jerked out of his reverie as his senses returned to reality, "Yes?"

"We've received a call from your sister, sir. Ms. Lockhart wishes to speak to you directly."

"I see", replied Storm as he lightly stroked the goatee upon his chin, the only bit of facial hair he ever cared to grow, "Is this a business or a personal call?"

"Business, sir. Apparently she's got a job lined up for you", returned Samanoske with a grim tone, as he could probably guess what Tifa had in mind for her brother.

"... Alright, patch her into my desk phone", said Storm, sighing. Tifa was a member of AVALANCHE, a notorious anti-Shinra terrorist group that had almost succeeded in completely destroying the entire city of Midgar some years before, or so Storm's sources told him. Most information about the group was rather hard to dig up thanks to Shinra keeping a tight lid on things in the media, so Storm had to find out via the various underworld contacts he held.

His and Tifa's relation was through their mother. When the War began, Storm was still a toddler. His father, in an effort to try and save the woman he loved, sent her away to Nibelheim, an out-of-the-way town in Shinra territory that would hopefully shield her from the war's carnage. While hiding there, Storm's mother met and later married Tifa's father, with Metsubi's blessing, and later bore his first and only child. While he cherished his sister, he had learned to adopt a cool manner towards those close to him because they might interfere and get themselves in danger. If there was one thing Storm hated, it was getting those close to him into grave danger, however few they were.

"Sir, the transfer is complete", stated the second-in-command over Storm's desk intercom.

"Alright", replied Storm, picking up the phone, and adopting a mock-serious tone, "State your business, sis, I have waiting customers, you know."

"Well, that cannot be my elder brother talking to me like that!", came the soothing, mellow voice of Tifa over the phone, who also sounded rather banterous.

"Ehh alright, sis, you have my attention", Storm chuckled as he dropped the act.

"Well now, there he is", said Tifa, cheerfully, "I have an offer for you. Right now, AVALANCHE is about to make their first major strike against Shinra. I'd like for **you** to assist us in this. The pay won't be like you're used to, but I'm sure you can make an exception for your own family!" Storm could almost hear the little jab Tifa had taken toward him, as she briefly adopted a cutesy little girl's voice to better jerk her older brother around. Storm smiled as he knew that if they were in person, Tifa would have had a playful puppy-dog eyes thing going on to better get his sympathy. Still, Storm had a lot of other things to worry about, like taking care of the men who had come to trust him.

He'd also had run-ins with Shinra, and didn't like drawing straws when they tried to prosecute him. And his prosecutors, usually overzealous Scarlet and thinks-he's-clever Heidegger, were always keen on putting Storm's head on a pike whenever they got the chance. The only real reason they hadn't was because of the President, who was intent on maintaining his connection to the Wutai Court. Not only that, but AVALANCHE was considerably weaker than it was a couple of years ago, when they had several skilled members, a scientist, and an excellent leader.

"Tifa, listen", Storm began, taking a more serious tone, "I've had my share of scrapes with Shinra. I've been forced to kill members of the Turks themselves in my time. I even had a few SOLDIERs bashing down my door once when I assisted a similar rebellion, sis. The only thing that's kept my head above water is the fact that Shinra, more or less, needs me and can't really afford to go and get rid of me. However, I don't want to keep pressing the matter with the guy, or he just might revoke his protection."

"Are you telling _me_", Tifa growled, her voice getting rather stern, "that my brother, who fought against Angeal Hewley himself, is too scared to help out his own sister!" Her voice was tinted with indignation, making Storm feel a bit awkward over the issue. "If it's _money_ you need, Storm, Barret and I will definitely pay you handsomely for your efforts once we have the money."

_If your rebellion __**succeeds**__, that is_, thought the ever-skeptical Storm, but his hatred of Shinra was egging him on to aid his younger sister. Storm sat in thought for a brief moment before placing the receiver back on his ear.

"Ehhh...ok, sis, you win. I'll come to your bar in Sector 7 tomorrow evening. Six pm, maybe," said Storm, inquisitively.

"That will be perfect", said Tifa, her voice once again cheerful, "Tomorrow is going to be our first major operation." Storm raised an eyebrow at this remark as he heard Tifa hang up the phone. Sighing, Storm leaned back in his chair after placing the phone back on its base and pulled out a small pack of Chicobo-brand cigarettes which had been shipped directly from Junon. Striking a small match and lighting the deathstick, Storm took a nice long draw to allow the sweet taste of tobacco to fill his mouth and help him take his mind off things. Some seconds later, however, his desk phone rang again.

"Cut the direct connection", barked Storm out of his window to Samanoske, who was on the floor below.

"Sir, that call is coming directly from Shinra headquarters!", his lieutenant replied with a salute. This proclamation cause Storm to accidentally tumble backwards out of his chair and onto the floor of his office, his cigarette falling out of his mouth. Hastily getting to his feet, Storm righted his chair and then picked the phone up after sitting back down in it.

"Hello?", inquired Storm, as he gingerly picked his cigarette up off of the floor and stuck it back in his mouth.

"Good Evening, Storm", came the ever-posh voice of none other than President Shinra himself, "It is good to see that you're still answering your phone. I have a job in line for you, with five hundred thousand gil as your payment!" This caused Storm to start gagging and coughing from the prospect, as five hundred thousand gil was the kind of money he needed to bring his mercenary business worldwide. However, this job would probably be nothing good, as this was Shinra Power and Electric, afterall.

"I'm listening", replied Storm, interested in the job and the money, though his tone was rather cold, no love lost between him and his stepfather.

"Well, my son", Shinra replied curtly, "I've received intelligence reports that my old enemy, AVALANCHE, is mustering a powerful offensive against me. So far, they've evaded all of my efforts to try and rout them in their previous operations, so I've figured that a more delicate touch is needed to deal with these terrorists. I'd like for you, and you personally Storm, to track down and destroy AVALANCHE. If you can, capture their ringleaders and any members you can find and bring them to me. An example must be made of them, afterall."

"Well...I uh...I've got several teams of mercs at my disposal, father, I-", said Storm with uncertainty as he tried to stave off having to accept.

"None of them are nearly as good as you alone, Storm, and you know that. I want **you **to take care of this. You do realize that you have no choice on this matter, right? You WILL take this job! If not, I have a gas chamber in Junon just waiting for you, boy. Now, I know that five hundred thousand gil is some money that you and your business can use. But if your price rises, then I will happily pay it", Shinra ordered with finality as Storm, once again, heard a click on the other end of the line.

Replacing the phone upon the base, Storm leaned forward in his chair as he continued to take regular draws from his cigarette. Leaning upon his left hand, Storm lightly tapped his fingers on the desktop between draws. Thinking long, hard, and in-depth, Storm contemplated the rather interesting pickle that his step-father and half-sister had put him in. When he finished his cigarette, Storm had made his decision on how to proceed. Tapping the last of the ashes into the ashtray on his desk, Storm rose from his chair and stretched, feeling several bones pop in the process. It was long past nightfall from what he could tell, though it was rather hard to do in a dump like Midgar.


	3. Seventh Heaven

Tonight's nightmare was much more powerful than most. The samurai's sleep had always been tortured by vivid nightmares of the war and his role in it, as a protector and then a destroyer of Wutai. Most of them were about the people he had killed, and their screaming faces forever reflected in his mind's eye. These were his countrymen and comrades, and he had been forced to kill them by the dozens like so many lambs to the slaughter. Tonight's nightmare, however, was another common one: one that showed Storm's own start down the path to his ultimate exile from Wutai.

* * *

"How does it feel to know that your country is nothing without you", Storm would hear Sephiroth say into Metsubi Kensho's ear as the great Slayer was on his knees before the Shackler of Leviathan. Though Sephiroth spoke with a rather normal-volumed tone due to the sounds of battle around them, Storm could hear his voice like he was whispering directly into his ear.

"At least I will die with honor", Storm's father would retort, his voice firm as he knew he was about to die, "and one day, Sephiroth, you will die without it."

"I shape my own destiny, samurai, and the ramblings of people like you just demonstrates your pathetic, scrabbling will to live ", Sephiroth would slither in return, as if totally bored with the situation, and deliver a fatal cut to Slayer's chest, and chuckle in triumph as Slayer would slump onto the bloodied ground, knowing that Shinra's victory was nigh.

No one knows what Sephiroth had uttered after that laugh. Storm knew. He had paid attention.

"And now, the kingdom is mine", the awe-inspiring warrior would utter, over and over, in Storm's head: a grisly reflection of his failure.

Then, Storm would feel the anger, the power, and the sorrow he felt at the death of his father and charge like a raging bull, his katana flailing in front of him. A few moments later he would feel the pain of his wound that sent him into temporary shock, looking up as Sephiroth would hold the Masamune up, and cut a large gash over his left eye, which left it sliced and useless.

* * *

Storm awoke with a great start, cold sweat running down his chest as he struggled to control his breathing, which had reached a frantic pace during his dreaming. When he regained control of his body, he realized that he was bleeding. Storm hastened to his bathroom and switched on the light, taking a good look at himself in the mirror, but so much blood was running over the left side of his face that he had to close one eye. After pressing a towel over the left side of his face, he realized that the scar that ran over his left eye had split open.

Hurrying to his bedside table, Storm picked up the Cure materia that he kept there and quickly channeled its energies into the wound, which then knitted and healed itself quickly. Storm hoped that maybe the scar would disappear with this healing, but it was a vain hope at most; and Storm let out a long sigh as the scar over his eye reappeared: a permanent reminder of his sins. The samurai took a good long look in the mirror as his left eye came back into focus.

Storm had a lean build with a couple of battle scars here and there across his torso, some of them from the War and others from his brutal training regimen. His chest and abs were toned and the skin drawn taut across his muscles, Storm having kept himself in shape during his time as a mercenary.

His eyes were a deep, navy-blue with a hint of green, while the characteristic bright glowing "Mako Eyes" trait common among SOLDIER members shone from his right eye, his left being an artificial replacement he'd gotten after the War. Though that eye glowed as well, it lacked the natural luster that his right had. They were set on the same level and were evenly spaced apart, making his face perfectly symmetrical, a rare trait that often creeped other people out. A golden loop twinkled from his left earlobe.

A long scar stretched down his face on his left side, cutting it into a separate third. It began on his forehead, over his left eye, and ended at the bottom of his jaw. His looks, however, were not tarnished by his scar so much as sharpened, showing that he'd seen his share of battle. Though most Wutai tended to have rounded faces, Storm's face was more angular and clean-cut, a trait he had inherited from his Shinra-born mother.

A long mane of jet black hair sprouted from his head, normally tied in a long wild ponytail that reached the middle of his back. A coating of stubble covered his face, Storm having neglected to shave the past few days. Aside from the stubble, a thick goatee beard covered his chin, a style worn by most Midgar youth that he had taken to during his time here.

Kensho stood at about five-foot ten-inches tall, which rather set him apart from most people in Midgar. Normally, Storm wore a suit of red steel-and-leather samurai armor, the same suit he had worn all through the Great War until its end five years ago. In addition to his armor, he carried at his side his trusted battle companion, the katana called the Katsumarasa. While longer than the average Wutai blade, the Katsumarasa had nothing in terms of length upon the great Masamune, both forged by the same smith. The man who forged both blades was Wutai-born, but had moved to the town of Icicle sometime before the War, where he forged the Masamune. The Katsumarasa, however, had been forged beforehand and given to Metsubi Kensho, who passed the sword down to Storm when he came of age.

After this brief moment of contemplating himself, Storm moved back into his room and checked his PHS cell phone to see that the time was seven in the morning. After spending several minutes stretching for the day, he tied up his hair and quickly dressed himself in a traditional Wutai kimono. After putting on his leather boots, Storm went downstairs into the building of Professionals and Securities, which he lived above.

Entering into his office, Storm looked out into the main hall of his business and saw that a few of his men had come into work early and begun setting up shop for today's business. Sitting down at his desk, Storm propped his feet up on his desk as he flipped on his office television and watched the morning news, settling into the normal beginning of his days. As he drank himself some coffee and flipped through the channels, Storm contemplated his rather tough dilemma.

He had himself two options. One, help his sister and bring about the downfall of the tyrannical Shinra Inc. but suffer with the guilt of bringing Anarchy to the world and losing the one, most likely only, chance of bringing his business worldwide. Two, he could arrest Tifa and AVALANCHE and bring them to the Shinra but suffer with the guilt of bringing his sister, the only true relations he had left, to her executioner and certain death. He had come to care deeply for the men under his employ, many of whom were hopeless fellows trying to scratch out a living here in Midgar. Storm had, more or less, taken them in and turned them into a rather productive member of society, and to not try and give them the opportunity of a lifetime would give Storm another thing to be guilty about, as if he was not guilty enough as it was.

When Storm came to his decision, it was around lunchtime, and so he had a typical meal of rice and fried prawns. After lunch, Storm spent the rest of his day preparing to leave, polishing and cleaning his suit of samurai armor before donning it. He packed six healing potions, linked his Fire and Elemental materia on his sword (two, linked slots), and placed his Ice and Restore in his armor(Full slots). Around 6 p.m., Storm decided to arrive early to surprise Tifa. Going into the garage of the building, he slid onto one of his motorcycles, a large hog that he had fitted with a scabbard to hold the Katsumarasa and keep it from getting in his way as he rode.

"Sir, I have a question", came the concerned voice of Samanoske, who had followed his boss into the garage.

"Ask away", replied Storm in his rather gruff but calm voice, reflective of his experiences in life.

"Well... I read the transmissions of both your calls from last night... what is your decision?"

"Suffice to say, my friend, that I made the best decision I could think of", said Storm as he started the engine and gave his motorcycle a good rev. Kicking the bike into gear, Storm rode out of the building and into the street of the great metropolis of Midgar, the Floating City.

It was said that Midgar was one of the greatest cities on the Planet, where Shinra protected and cared for its people as they kept a watchful eye upon the world from the great tower that loomed over the entire city. A great honeycomb of roads and highways criss-crossed across the city, allowing for ease of transportation both in the city and out into the land of the Planet beyond. The city was so vast and so large that one could live their entire lives in Midgar without ever having to leave, living forever in what was seen as a paradise upon the Planet.

Of course, if Midgar was a paradise on Gaia, then the rest of the world was by far the most disgusting slum in the world. Though there were numerous patrols of MP Peacekeepers around the city and in the various housing areas, crime was the highest cause of death with the suffocation from the pollution secreted by the eight Mako Reactors that powered the city being a close second. The air was extremely noxious to most newcomers to the city, some of whom would die within the year if they were not careful. Though Storm had lived in Midgar for around four years, there were some days where the fumes would get to him, causing the samurai to yearn for the homeland he could never return to. Those who were born in the city were able to adapt quickly, for the most part, though those who lived in the Slums below the massive plates that gave Midgars its nickname were by far the most resilient folks alive, having to deal with monsters and more pollution from the reactors. However, those in the slums did not have to pay taxes to Shinra, instead only having to purchase goods produced upon the "Great Pizza" above them. But then, most of the deaths in Midgar were from the Slum population.

After a bit of travel through the streets of the city, Storm came upon the Sector 8 train station where he purchased a ticket and space in the boxcar for his bike. After driving and parking his motorcycle in the boxcar, Storm made his way to the back-most passenger car, where he took a seat but startled many passengers, whose eyes grew wide at the sight of the sword at his side. Storm didn't mind, the only ones with weapons that people wouldn't mind seeing would be Shinra grunts and the occasional SOLDIER unit. A mercenary with a katana at his side was probably a very rare sighting for these people, and in Midgar what the people didn't see very often scared them, for Storm could very well have been a psychopath ready to slaughter them at any given moment.

After some hours of riding, Storm heard a chime over the loudspeaker along with the conductor announcing the imminent arrival into Sector 7: Train Graveyard. The slums of this sector had gotten their nickname for the immense derelict trains that had been haphazardly discarded into the area like a landfill. The graveyard was a haven for gangs and monsters to roam, preying upon various commuters from Wall Market and other slums, as the Sector 7 station was the only train station that came down this far.

Having returned to the boxcar, Storm mounted his motorcycle and brought it to life as the train came to a stop. After a quick rev of the engine to get the oil circulating, Storm removed a pair of sunglasses from a pocket and placed them on his eyes. Though they were aesthetically pleasing, the shades also served the purpose of keeping Storm's eyes protected from the dust that blew throughout the slums, something that most who lived on the Plates never had to worry about. When the train finally stopped, Storm heard the outer latch of the boxcar door being undone and the door begin to slide open. Kicking the bike into gear, Storm's motorcycle roared as it blasted out over the conductor's head and onto the train platform, no doubt scaring the poor fellow out of his wits. After powering down the steps of the platform ahead of the disembarking passengers, the samurai steered his bike out into the piles of garbage and detritus that littered Sector 7's slums much like every other sector, as the slums were a very convenient landfill for the people of the Plates.

After some ten minutes of dodging his way through the piles of waste, Storm blew past the intersection that led to the Plate's support pillar and the gate to Sector 6's slums and finally arrived into Sector 7's slum town, centered around the famous Seventh Heaven bar. Though this town was much better off than most other slum towns, the people of Sector 7 still lived in a constant state of poverty. The buildings here, though better maintenance and permanent, were still mostly cobbled-together pieces of scrap metal built for crude shelter. However, one of the most outstanding structures was the Seventh Heaven, a bar built a short time after the end of the War out of oaken wood and actual steel. The drinks were renowned all around Midgar, which had made Tifa and her bar quite famous around the city. The income from this reputation was no doubt a great perk, as it kept the bar afloat and helped Storm's sister fund her further activities.

Storm pulled in front of the bar and found himself parked amongst a tight crowd of the town's citizens, who were observing a rather loud-sounding altercation within the bar with rapt attention. Frowning at this, Storm stooped and removed a cigarette from a pouch on his left boot before lighting it with a lighter inscribed with the SOLDIER logo, one of Storm's souvenirs from the War. Taking an initial draw from the deathstick, Storm quickly skimmed the area around the bar to see that five hogs much like his own had been parked outside.

"This can't be good", the samurai muttered to himself, his voice muffled by the cigarette as he took a draw and approached the closest person, an older fellow who ran the weapon shop nearby. "What's going on here?", the samurai opened, removing the tobacco from his mouth.

"Some biker gang from the Graveyard made their way into town, looking to ransack the place", the old man said, "Thing is, they wanted to get themselves nice and wasted before they started, so they stopped in to have a drink. After getting themselves some booze, the gang started causing themselves a right little ruckus, which gave Tifa enough reason to beat the crap out of them and make sure they didn't ransack our town."

"Thanks", Storm replied, slipping a small pouch of ten gil into the man's hand. Pushing his way through to the front of the crowd, Storm looked into the open bar doors and saw that his sister had indeed taken the word "asskicking" and applied it to that five bikers in her bar. As his sister's long legs flashed, more and more bruises would appear on the men's faces and torsos, or whatever body part had gotten within her range. None of the men had firearms, and were thus reduced to using the lead pipes that they had brought with them for their little escapade. A small smile came to Storm's face as he began to mount the steps toward the swinging doors and continued to observe Tifa's no-holds-barred beatdown on these men.

As he got a better look at things, though, Tifa was pretty battered herself. He could see a nasty-looking bruise on her right thigh and she was favoring the leg, which meant she had to kick entirely with the left leg which limited her offense. Her arms bore a few nicks and scratches, but she'd also seemed to have taken a blow in the stomach, as she seemed uncharacteristically winded, unusual for a disciplined student of the martial arts such as her. The bikers, however, had definitely suffered for their trouble and they had seemed to have taken five bad injuries for every one of her's.

At this moment, the combatants were at an impasse, Tifa steadily taming her breathing as her leather-clad fists remained raised in front of her face. Meanwhile, the biker gang had just about had enough, all of them clutching some part of their body, whether it was a swollen eye, ear, or an injured arm or rib. One man's nose bled profusely while he could only see out of the right eye, the other one being completely swollen shut. It had amazed Storm that these fools were even still standing much less continuing to go toe-to-toe with Tifa!

Then, just suddenly, the gang sprung forward, and Tifa's fists clenched as if she'd had enough, and if her next attacks were any indicator, her gloves were coming off. One gang banger swung at her head, which was just as suddenly not there, the arm holding the pipe seized by Tifa's hands. With a quick application of leverage, that same arm was snapped clean in half at the elbow while Tifa threw a back-kick toward the man behind her's knee, also snapping the limp in half. As the two men collapsed, Tifa pivoted and was now skipping backward in her ready-stance, the other three bikers hot in pursuit. The nearest man charged straight at her, and the martial artist just as quickly gave him a full knee in the stomach while she waylaid the next thug with a fast and furious series of blows to his chest before giving him a final punch straight in the solar plexis. The man coughed up a mist of blood before falling and stirring no more. It was down to a final man, whose face now shone with fear at the fact that the woman that he and his gang had thought was about to give up had actually gotten a second wind and laid waste the them without so much as breaking a sweat. Though Tifa's back was now to his, Storm could almost see the smirk that had come to his sister's face.

The man's grip on his pipe was now shaking as he contemplated his next move, which seemed to lean toward going out in a suicidal charge. Finishing his cigarette, Storm tossed the butt over his shoulder off of the bar's veranda and then entered the swinging doors to make his presence known. Thought Tifa did not turn around, the biker thug's eyes immediately grew wide as his eyes beheld the bemused face of the mercenary of Midgar. Raising his eyebrows in a challenge, Storm patted the katana at his side while he looked at the thug with a sarcastic "Well?" expression on his face. With the brevity of his situation realized, the last biker immediately took off faster than any speed runner for the door. Storm stepped aside to allow the scumbag his escape. As Storm heard the guy rev up his bike and quickly take off for the Train Graveyard, the citizens of the town quickly moved into the bar and grabbed the fallen men and their dead comrade and took them away, no doubt to loot their belongings and their bikes for whatever they could find to earn them another day's worth of gil. As quickly as they came, the people of the slum town were gone and dispersed back to their homes.

"Y'know", came a sweet voice behind him, "I could've used your sword a good fifteen minutes ago." Storm couldn't help but burst into a laugh at this, his sister's wit always something to look forward to.

"Come, now, would any student of the legendary Zangan", Storm retorted as he turned around to look his sister in the eye, "much less _you_, need help against that sort of rabble? Hell, I could have wiped the floor clean with those guys at the age of **eight**!" Storm chuckled again as he and Tifa made their ways toward each other before embracing one-another affectionately.

"It's been too long, Tif''", Storm whispered as he lightly petted his sister's curtain of hair.

"Hey, you've known where to find me", Tifa shot back as they parted and then quickly made their way to the bar's counter.

"What can I say, it's kind of embarrassing to come to my own sister's bar and find her wearing an outfit that would invite the wrong sort of attention", the samurai teased, referring to the fact that Tifa wore a miniskirt that barely qualified as clothing and a midriff-revealing tank top with a pair of suspenders that seemed to purposely wrap around her rather large bosom. If it was not for the fact that Tifa wore metal-knuckled leather gloves, armored elbow pads, elbow-length fighting gloves and a pair of old leather boots, Storm would have tagged his sister as a prostitute, though he knew better than to say that to her face.

"Come now, Storm", his sister also teased, "How do you think this bar got famous to begin with?" Her sly wink brought a smile to Storm's face.

"Your drinks, obviously", he replied, "Speaking of which, get me your strongest whiskey and dip a cherry in it."

"Didn't you quit drink, brother?", Tifa asked with a raised eyebrow as she grabbed a short glass from below the bar.

"_Heavy_ drinking. I don't go and get myself wasted everyday like I used to, but I definitely can't deny that a good drink helps after a long day."

"Well it's about to get longer, y'know", Tifa continued as she filled Storm's glass with ice and whiskey before dropping in a stemmed cherry, "Our first major operation is tonight. Barret will have the details once he and the others get back from the Plate."

"The Plate?", asked a curious Storm, his eyebrow raised.

"They're buying supplies for the mission. Ammunition, explosives, and the like. It's going to be one hell of a message for Shinra."

_I bet it will be_, the samurai thought sardonically as he lightly sipped his drink and allowed the cool drink to warm his body.

"Storm", Tifa said after a brief stretch, "would you mind watching the bar for me? I've got a shipment of drinks and booze to pick up from the station. It was supposed to be on the last train."

Storm shrugged before he nodded, continuing to sip on his whiskey as Tifa exited the bar. A good fifteen minutes passed in silence as Storm lightly sipped his drink, making sure not to waste it nor drink it too fast. It was rather uncouth for him to get drunk before a job, even back in his drinking days.

_**So, tell me**_, said a voice in the back of Storm's head, **_have you thought your decision through entirely, my boy?_**

_What the he-, _thought Storm as he quickly looked around the bar to confirm no one was there.

_**Oh, there's nothing to worry about with me, my friend. I am merely your conscience questioning what you decided.**_

_It was the best decision I could come to, yes._

_**Really, now? Have you thought of the consequences of that decision?**_

_Yes. But it all boils down to whether or not I can move on from the past and embrace my future._

_**But is it wise to simply discard the past and forget it entirely? Isn't the past what teaches us how the embrace the future. **_

_From a certain point of view, the past is nothing more than baggage that weighs us down and prevents us from moving forward. _

_**But what do you think about it, personally?**_

_You think I'm just going to tell you? Figure it out yourself, Mr. "Conscience"!_

Storm returned to his senses as he heard the swinging doors open again and turned to see Tifa returning with a crate from her shipment in her arms. Another crate was being carried by a rather tall fellow wearing a purple-blue jumpsuit that reminded Storm very much of a First Class SOLDIER's uniform. This outfit, however, was a heavily modified and customized variation, as was typical amongst the elite of SOLDIER, who were given the option to wear whatever outfit they wished. This man, however, definitely had the look of a First Class about him, and he looked vaguely familiar to Storm, like maybe he'd been on a mission with this guy before now.


	4. Cloud Strife & Barret Wallace

This newcomer's outfit was composed of several standard SOLDIER attributed, the first of which was a deep blue sleeveless Turtleneck sweater with leather accents that held the shoulder pauldrons all SOLDIERs wore in place. However, he'd seemed to eschew the right arm's pauldron in favor of further armoring his left arm, which had a rather large piece of steel buckled around his wrist and forearm like a gauntlet when combined with the steel-accented leather glove he wore. On his right arm was a simple leather glove that lacked the reinforced accents that his left one had. Storm's eyebrow rose as he pondered how this man was allowed to customize his outfit while in the corps, but then realization dawned on him as he saw the man's black combat fatigues, marking him as a former First Class SOLDIER like he and, as such, allowed to wear whatever they damned well pleased. These fatigues were accompanied by standard-issue dark brown combat boots.

Physically, the newcomer was built like a former SOLDIER would be: spare-built with a lot of definition that deceived most who saw them due to the fact that the Mako showering and Jenova Cell injection would boost their strength levels to superhuman bounds. The man's hair was bright golden-blond and spiked beyond belief, as if his mother had mated with a hedgehog in her younger days. Sitting back and finishing his drink, Storm remained casual as Tifa and the youth set their shipment boxed in the back as Tifa slid behind the counter and the newcomer leaned against the bar a couple of feet away from the samurai. Storm couldn't help but keep a cautious eye on this fellow, whose eyes glowed in the characteristic green glow found amongst SOLDIER members, a sign of their Mako showering.

What intrigued Storm the most about this man was the sword slung across his back. It was a massive weapon, almost as tall as the man and about as wide. While it had a cutting edge on it, the man's weapon could function just as well without it, as the sheer weight of the thing would be more than enough for a kill.

"So Tifa tells me that you're the most famous mercenary in all of Midgar", Cloud began as Tifa refilled Storm's whiskey and slid a bottle of beer toward him, "I hope your fondness for hard liquor won't get in the way of my payment." Popping the cap off using his armored wrist, Cloud took a swig from the bottle.

"Payment?", Storm replied, looking inquiringly at Tifa, who had dropped behind the bar to grab herself several glasses and a mixture of liquors.

"Cloud here has offered his services to us. He's been looking for work as a mercenary here in Midgar and I happened to find him at the station when I picked up my shipment", Tifa answered as she began to pour various combinations into four separate glasses.

"A mercenary, eh?", Storm said, turning his attention back to Cloud as he took a sip of whiskey, "If he were worth anything, little sister, then I'd have heard of him by now. If he's new to the whole job, then he could compromise our entire operation. What makes you think that we need to add a liability to the squad?"

"A man about to carry out a bombing run against Shinra shouldn't spend the preceding hours getting wasted", Cloud quipped in a mock-sagely tone before drinking a bit more of his beer as Storm took another sip of whiskey, this one much longer than the others as he hastened to finish the glass. The higher amount of liquor caused Storm to grunt as the alcohol burned the inside of his mouth a bit. He looked and saw Cloud with a sense of satisfaction on his face, as if Storm had proven him right.

"I must have the lowest tolerance to alcohol in the world, then", retorted Storm, taking a smaller sip this time, "because this is only my second drink."

"Well, they _do_ say that Wutai can't hold their liquor at all", quipped Cloud mockingly before taking another drink of beer. Storm's brow began to furrow as he was a bit put-off by the man's wit. Unconsciously, Storm began to reach toward the katana at his hip, an old instinctual reaction from his samurai training. Instead, Storm dropped his arms before finishing his drink in one large gulp, holding back the hiss this time around.

"Drunk or not", shot Storm, "I could still give a rather effective demonstration of why my fame in Midgar is such. Right now, I think you should be my demonstration partner, Cloud. Want to volunteer?"

"What makes you think that little toy at your side can stand up to my Buster Sword?", the blond youth rather arrogantly asked, giving the blade of his sword a bit of a pat while Tifa seemed to be at a loss of what exactly she should do about this dick-waving contest. Cloud, in a further example of his confidence, then took one long final swig of beer, which was final because the rest of the bottle wound up being splashed about his waist and legs. The glass at the bottom of the bottle's neck had been cleanly severed, causing the body to fall and splash a bunch of beer all the way down Cloud's front before it hit the floor of Tifa's bar, the hardwood causing the glass to shatter.

Storm was now standing up from his barstool, the Katsumarasa unsheathed and held in his right hand. Though he seemed to just be standing, Storm had in fact moved fast enough to unsheathe the blade and deliberately avoid cutting Cloud's chest or limbs, instead angling for his drink as a brief demonstration of his abilities, just like he'd promised. Storm nonchalantly crossed his arms as he further taunted Cloud.

"Listen, Spike", Storm growled as he cracked his neck, "lone wolves don't last very long here in Midgar. So if you want to go howl, do it in Kalm. Otherwise, all you'll do is leave yourself open to being devoured by this place." Storm's voice was rather firm and serious this time around, intending to teach this upstart a bit of a lesson in manners.

But then, there was a woman with the punching power of a freight train right next to him that was not very happy that he had spilled beer and glass all over her floor. Almost as soon as he was finished speaking, Storm felt a force unlike any other connect with the right side of his jaw and stars began to blink in and out of his field of vision. Storm was sent sprawling, staggering to the side before hitting his stomach on a table and tripping over himself and falling right on his back onto the hardwood floor, sending another sensation of pain to his brain as his skull impacted it.

Cloud, who had been sputtering at the explosion of beer in his face and on his clothes, was instead now chuckling as Tifa sent her brother to the dirt. Wiping his face off, he turned to Tifa as she brought around a dustpan and broom and began to sweep up the mess. Scratching the back of his head, Cloud watched Storm roll about on the floor a bit before talking to Tifa.

"Think you might've hit him a bit too hard?", Cloud asked as he moved out of her way.

"If he was a regular patron, he'd be unconscious", Tifa quipped as she brushed the glass into the dustpan and dumped it into a trash bin. As she brought out a mop to soak up the booze, she continued, "I won't kill my own brother because he made an ass of himself. Just make sure he knows that we need to cooperate if this mission is going to be a success."

"Makes sense", Cloud replied as he walked to Storm and roughly pulled the samurai to his feet and sat him down at the table he'd bumped into. "Hey!", he began as he lightly slapped Storm about the face and stuck his index finger up in the center of Storm's vision, "How many fingers do ya see?"

Storm's head lolled about as his vision shifted in and out of focus, giving a very distorted image of what he was seeing. As soon as he got his eyes open enough, Storm took the best look he could, as woozy as he was, before he lazily answered with "Three?"

"Close enough", Cloud quipped before picking the samurai out of his chair and crutching him over to the bar and setting him down in a stool as Storm's sight began to return to him. When he'd finally recovered enough, Storm pulled the whiskey bottle over to himself and poured another glass of whiskey. Quickly downing the whole glass, Storm's senses rushed back to him as the world came back to focus. Storm grunted as his vision was still a bit blurry from Tifa's decking before he pulled out a cigarette and his lighter and lit himself up. Taking a couple of draws, Storm turned around as he saw Cloud and Tifa conversing at another part of the bar.

After a time, there was a ruckus at the door to Seventh Heaven as Tifa finished preparing the four drinks from earlier. As soon as the noise stopped, a large black man with a full beard and a crewcut made his presence known in the bar. He wore a large jacket cutoff at the arms, a pair of green pants and a massive pair of boots on his feet. He gave off a general air of leadership and held a commanding presence. His left arm was normal, but his right bore a giant gatling gun where his hand used to be. It wasn't precise, but that thing could shred a whole Shinra platoon!

"Hey Tifa", called the man after he saw Cloud and Storm, "who're the little kids at the bar?"

"These are a couple of mercenaries I hired for help. They don't look like much but I know them well. This is Storm and this is Cloud", replied Tifa as she introduced the two to the big man.

"You know my policy with mercs. Those goddamn boots'll slip onto another pair of feet, if the price is right", the man growled.

"Did you know that cussing in front of your daughter may influence her to cuss too?", Storm inquired with raised eyebrows and a mock-concerned disposition, casting an amused eye on the little girl on the man's shoulder.

"She's tough, like her old man", replied the large man, thumping his chest before ruffling his daughter's hair, "and she could certainly beat the shit out of both of you!"

"Oooh look", jeered Cloud, "the big man needs to hide behind his daughter!"

"It'd be a mercy-beatin' if I sic'd her on you", said the man with a chuckle.

"Alright, Barret, that's enough. Now you, Jessie, Biggs, Wedge, Storm, and Cloud head down to the hideout and discuss the plan. Lord knows we don't need people overhearing _that_", Tifa interjected, putting a stop to their little spat.

"Alright. I'll pay them, but only if they agree on one thing: Don't ever mock me again", Barret spoke, a resigned tone to his voice. With that, he moved to the back corner of the bar and pressed a button on the "broken" pinball machine, which then dislodged from its placement and lowered down into AVALANCHE's hideout. The three other people, two men and a woman, then jumped down the shaft after him. The elevator rose out of the hideout soon after.

_Whatever you say boss_, thought Storm sarcastically as he knocked on the bar to get another refill on his whiskey before lighting another cigarette, his last one long since finished. Rising from his stool, glass in-hand, Storm followed Cloud to the elevator and slapped the switch once they were both on board and soon they were in the hideout of the infamous terrorist organization: AVALANCHE.


End file.
